Come slowly
by celestialscribe
Summary: The title is based on Emily Dickenson's poem 'Come Slowly' which features in this piece. It's Valentine's Day thus Remus surprises Sirius with some poetry, proving to him that even books have the potential to be fun. There is smut.


February 14th, 1979, was a Valentine's Day not to be forgotten. Sirius had always enjoyed this holiday more than others. It had ever been an excuse to be even more nonchalant, more charming, more obnoxious and more promiscuous than any other day. And for some reason, the ladies lapped it up. Of course it was only ever an act. Sirius was none of the above because he _wanted_ to be, solely because his upbringing had _made _him that way. Sirius didn't wear his heart on his sleeve. He didn't make a habit of letting someone get under his skin like Remus had. In fact, he couldn't remember _ever_ caring so much about another person. He loved Moony so much that when he had to listen to the cries, yelps, howls of pain on the night of the full moon, Sirius would rather tear his own flesh and bones than have Remus endure it again, and again, as one full moon slipped into another. He loved him to such a degree that it didn't seem to matter that they were both chaps, that it was once more against everything Sirius had ever been taught or that they were potentially destroying their friendship with each passion-felt embrace. All that mattered was Moony. And that Moony was his.

The last Valentine's Day that Sirius could remember, that of their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, had been different. He and Remus had been a _thing_, even if it hadn't been defined with words or known to anyone but themselves and the other two marauders. James had taken Lily to Madam Puddifoot's; Merlin knows what would ever possess him to do that. Peter was hiding in his four poster bed, unwilling to ever come out (not even for breakfast) after the pretty Ravenclaw girl from the year below that he'd had his eye on had refused his offer of a date. The poor boy had decided to serenade her, not that he could sing a note to save his life. Meanwhile, Remus had been determined to do his homework, thus Sirius had obligingly accompanied him to the library where, needless to say, not a single piece of homework was completed. Sirius forever recalled the moment with a sense of smug satisfaction; he had cornered Remus in the quieter section of the library, pinning him against the shelf and ravaging his lips so that the few books he'd held merely spilled onto the floor at their feet. The day itself was just like any other. Except for _that_. Sirius had finally discovered what Valentine's Day was all about.

Never had it escaped Sirius' notice that Remus abhorred Valentine's Day. He hated the red glitter, the paper heart confetti, and the cheesy lines that seemingly spilled freely from Sirius' lips before a smirk graced his overwhelmingly haughty features. And for a total of three hundred and sixty four days, that was perfectly justified. But _not_ on Valentine's Day. And yet Sirius didn't feel half as compelled to treat a Valentine's with Moony like any other. These effects were almost wholly lost on Remus, but they were also entirely unsatisfactory regardless. There wasn't enough confetti in the world to sum up how much affection Sirius harboured for the werewolf. Thus whilst Remus was out buying the essentials such as milk and bread and chocolate, Sirius tempered his love of the holiday, choosing not to decorate their flat in sickly paper chains of red and pink, sparing Remus the trite clichés which he loathed so determinedly.

When Remus eventually entered the flat, his eyes shot around the room fleetingly as if expecting a charmed cupid to come swooping down upon him at any moment. But it didn't and Remus almost looked disappointed. But he said nothing, thus Sirius said nothing.

* * *

><p>They'd managed to go the remainder of the day without mentioning it. Sirius could feel the spark of frustration in his chest; he was beginning to think that he, like Valentine's Day, didn't matter to Remus. Oh how mistaken he was.<p>

When Sirius entered the bedroom, he found Remus stretched out on the bed, perfectly composed. Yet he clutched another one of those irritable books in his hands, enough to reignite the swelling contempt Sirius felt at how utterly unbothered Remus seemed by it all. It must have been new, something he'd picked up while he'd been out because he seemed to have taken a surprising interest in it. Sirius gave the book an ugly look as he crossed the room, but only when he'd straddled Remus did the werewolf take any notice of him. Laying the open book on his chest, Remus' lips teased into a smile, one that reminded Sirius of the Marauder, the Moony who oversaw the construction of the Marauders map and didn't take offence to stolen kisses in the library. Remus' eyes were surprisingly alight with something to which _only_ Sirius bore witness. He tried to suppress his compulsion to kiss the wizard he loved so fiercely,_ too_ fiercely, for neither that smile _or_ those eyes could undo this most treacherous of offences.

"It's Valentine's Day, Moony, and you fucking forgot." _Either that or you don't care._

Remus looked as if he might laugh. There was too much knowing in his expression, indicating that he had expected this from Sirius but if that was the case than why he'd put him through this was beyond him. Then a hint of apology swept over his scarred features, his thick brow tugging into a frown.

"_I_ was wondering if _you'd_ remembered. On Halloween, we practically had a bat infestation. At Christmas, the ceiling was coated in mistletoe. Where's cupid, Sirius? And more importantly, should I be worried?"

But Remus stopped him before he could answer by pressing a finger to his lips to still the storm that he sensed was brewing within. He'd somehow summoned up the backbone to do this; he was going to see it through.

"Here.." he began, closing the book and holding it to the man who still occupied the space on top of him before continuing, "is your present."

Sirius stared. A book. A _book?_ Sirius was bored already; a mere breath away from casting it aside.

"Don't give me that look. Turn to page 163."

Sirius was apprehensive. Flicking through the pages, it was his turn to furrow his brow in a deep-set frown. "Poetry.." he sighed. Poetry was the worst. It was merely riddle upon riddle which Remus spent _hours_ trying to decipher. However when he clapped eyes on the title that headed page 163, his lips tugged into that same obnoxious smirk which was probably his most frustratingly exciting feature, according to Remus at least.

Rolling his eyes but not without affection, Remus took hold of Sirius by the hips so as to move out from under him. Sirius obediently dropped onto the bed beside him, his eyes searching Remus' features for answers. If this was a joke, it wasn't funny. If this was some statement on his lack of reading habits, he was outright offended. If it was a game, he didn't know the rules. But now that he came to think of it, that was almost exciting.

"Now read it. Aloud." Remus' words were suggestive, as was the smile that played at his lips. Meanwhile, Sirius looked sceptical. With a sigh, he rested his head on the pillow and set his eyes on the page.

"Come slowly, Eden... Lips unused to thee."

As he read, Remus took a hold of his hand, planting a light kiss on his palm before trailing his lips along the tender skin of his arm. Meanwhile a sly hand had worked its way up his shirt, sliding over his chest before resting just above his hip.

When he realised Sirius had come to a pause, Remus shifted until it was _him _straddling _Sirius._ "Keep reading," he instructed, momentarily resting his chin upon Sirius' chest. However the raven-haired wizard had to clear his throat before he continued. Had it been anyone but Remus, the simple contact of feeling someone next to him or _on top_ of him wouldn't have been enough to send his mind reeling. But it _was_ Remus. _His_ Remus. And he saw where this was going.

"Bashful... sip thy jasmines..."

Sirius read the words, but they had ceased to be the sole object of his attention the moment Remus brought his lips to Sirius' bare skin. He felt the pressure of a hand on the swelling bulge in his jeans, an indication that Sirius knew the rules better than he'd initially thought. Then Remus fumbled with the zip, grazing lips, tongue and hot breath against Sirius' skin until he raised his hips, allowing Remus to wrench him free of his jeans.

"Fuck, Remus..," Sirius exclaimed, attempting to regain himself thus not let on that he was actually extremely taken aback and even more turned on than he'd like to admit.

"As the fainting bee.. _fuck_.."

Remus' fingers teased at his cock, He could already feel his veins ablaze with yearning, but that merely increased tenfold, especially when Remus brought his tongue to meet Sirius' cock, tracing its tip so as to incite further desire in him. It worked. Remus' mouth was warm and moist, and seemed to encase him perfectly. Sirius' chest rose and fell with each jagged breath, the book threatening to slip from his loosening grip. His other hand was clasped in Remus', Remus who thankfully lessened the torture he was now putting him through by granting him that small relief. Sirius interlocked their fingers, tightly, almost painfully, given that Remus was now sucking hard and showing no sign of mercy.

A deep moan escaped Sirius' lips as Remus drew him further and further towards his limit, amidst a stream of curses, interspersed with the odd "Remus..." He was trembling now, his whole body fighting to resist the climax that was only inevitable so long as Remus continued to do exactly what he was doing. The book slipped from his fingers, falling to the ground, crumpled and forgotten.

"Stop." Sirius forced the word from his lips; it was a word he _rarely_ said thus Remus obeyed instantly. Sirius didn't hesitate however, tugging Remus towards him by the collar of his shirt which he proceeded to tear from his shoulders in mere seconds.

Foreheads touching, hot breath met hot breath before Remus yanked the t-shirt Sirius still wore over his head and discarding it on the ground. Closing as much distance between them as was possible, Remus' form moulded into Sirius', his hands roaming more freely so that one rested intertwined in the tresses of Sirius' hair whilst the other returned to his cock. Sirius followed suit; Remus was just as hard, just as eager for release as he was, and yet like Remus he would draw it out as long as he could.

As another wave of gratification swept over him, Sirius clenched his eyes tightly shut. But when he heard the other man whisper his name in his ear, a beautiful mix of need and want and love and devotion in that solitary sound, Sirius brought his grey orbs to meet Remus'. They were as warm as Sirius _felt_, amber and almost incandescent, bright and afire with all that his voice conveyed.

Crashing his lips against Remus', Sirius stole one thorough kiss before his whole body shuddered with the ecstasy the other man had granted him. "Fucking hell, Remus," he breathed against his lips, his hands clenching his flesh in an attempt to hold him as close as was humanly possible. He felt his heart burst, a burst of pleasure, of his fiery veins, of the affection he bore for Remus forever tempered because not always could they kiss or hold hands or interrupt open conversation with a quick_ I love you_. And yet, he didn't stop. The mix of words and moans that spilled from Remus' lips were as beautiful as Remus himself. Sirius grazing lips over the line of his jaw, his neck, planting light kisses along his collar bone, until he felt Remus' warmth pool over his fingers and the werewolf's grip tighten in his hair.

* * *

><p>Sirius wondered how mere touch could render two wizards so disarmed until they were solely captives of their own desire. Sirius' head rested on the pillow, eyes locked on Remus who lay beside him, facing him, basking in the warmth and intimacy that had brought this upon them. They both bore stupid smiles that they couldn't shake. Sirius' arm held Remus close against him, gently stroking his back with the pad of his thumb. Remus' hand absent-mindedly brushed the black locks from about Sirius' face, before the words escaped him.<p>

"Reaching late his flower, Round her chamber hums.. Counts his nectars - alights, And is lost in balms." Remus closed his eyes, feeling the pull of sleep that accompanied such acts; dreamless, sweet. "I love you more than _books_, Sirius Black."

Sirius edged closer to the werewolf, if such was even possible, breathing in his scent as he tried to imprint the finer details of this moment in his memory. Remus' breath ghosting against his skin and the beat of his heart, calmer and more still now that he was slipping into sleep. Sirius had somewhat less contempt for books than he had prior to that night, that glorious Valentine's Day which ended just as every Valentine's _should; _with Remus encased in his arms, right where he had always belonged.


End file.
